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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28240200">Below Zero</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/klassmartin/pseuds/mjonesing'>mjonesing (klassmartin)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Sixty Minutes Challenge [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, POV Outsider, Snow, Snowball Fight, Snowmen, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, frozen jokes are welcomed and encouraged</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 17:33:46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,184</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28240200</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/klassmartin/pseuds/mjonesing</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter and Michelle create a snowman.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Michelle Jones/Peter Parker</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Sixty Minutes Challenge [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1777423</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>37</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Below Zero</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Oops. I wrote a thing. </p>
<p>Partially inspired by Sia’s Snowman, from which the title is taken.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The first thing he sees is her smile. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She’s laughing, hair whipping around her face despite the woolly hat tugged securely down to her eyebrows. The fluffy collar of her coat is tickling along her jaw, and when her hands withdraw from his face they’re covered in burgundy red mittens.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s one of the most amazing things he’s ever seen. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She is <em>happy</em>. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>What a rare and beautiful sight. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She trudges through a thick layer of snow to somewhere he can’t see, and when she comes back, she’s poking out her tongue and looping something warm around him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Someone touches the sides of his face, and there’s a ringing and a pop and then -</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There! Now he can hear us!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s a snowman, Peter. It doesn’t need ears.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So why does he need my scarf?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Because the scarf is hideous, and what my grandma doesn’t know can’t hurt her.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A boy approaches her, bottom lip jutted out as he shivers for effect in his thick parka coat. “It can hurt me, when I get frostbite.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sure you’ll be fine, Spidey.” But she reaches inside her jacket and pulls out a hidden scarf striped blue and red, and when she ties it securely around his neck, she presses close into his body to duck down and press her lips to his rosy cheeks. “Better?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Much better, now.” The boy wraps his arms around her waist, a helpless smile spreading across his face as the girl narrows her dark eyes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re a cheese ball.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>your</span>
  </em>
  <span> cheese ball.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That is it!” The girl twists out of his hold and, in the same motion, bends to collect a handful of snow, not even bothering to compact it before throwing it at her partner. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Half hits him straight in his laughing face, the other sprinkled throughout his curly hair. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“MJ! Not my beautiful face!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But he’s already moving to create his own snowball, patting it down securely and hitting her between the shoulder blades as she runs away with a delighted shriek. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No fair! You’re stronger than me!” she protests when another immediately creates a wet spot on her dark blue jeans.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t start something unless you’re planning to finish it,” the boy replies in a poor imitation of her voice, and when a snowball is aimed in retaliation at his chest, he doesn’t bother ducking out of its path. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They play for a while, until they’re drenched and out of breath and laughing too hard to continue. For a first memory, this might just be the best one of all. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They’re lying in the snow after the girl has tackled the boy to the ground, and she’s got her chin on his chest and his arms wrapped tight around her. They must be cold, he’s sure, but something undefinable surrounds them, protecting them in this moment, warming them with its presence. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The girl presses her soaked mitten to his cheek and leans up to press her lips to his, and suddenly he knows. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It is love.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Eventually the sky darkens and the snow glistens in the streetlight, sparkling and crisp beneath their boots. The girl trembles in her coat and tucks her frozen fingers into her sleeves, soaked mittens long since discarded, and the boy slides closer to take them into his hands, blowing a warm breath on the huddle of fingertips. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Cheese ball,” she mutters quietly, but there’s only fondness in her voice. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good think you’re not lactose intolerant.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She groans, loud and genuine, and only stops when the boy presses his grin against her lips. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They kiss once, twice, a dozen times or more; slowly at first before they get lost in it, gentle caresses being exchanged despite the layers of outerwear. The boy’s hand tangles in her hair, tilting her head just so, pressing closer and closer until not a slither of space exists between them. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She pulls back, gasping, and they linger in the moment, gazes locked. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>What is it they see there, staring out from within their lover?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He smiles once more and kisses her slow, and when he pulls away her eyes stay closed, chasing him forward until the moment comes to an end. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t start something unless you’re planning to finish it,” she whispers, but she steps back and lets their embrace simplify to her hand in his. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh I have every intention of continuing,” he teases, chuckling at her rolling eyes. “You know what sounds good before that, though?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your Aunt’s hot chocolate?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He grins. “The only cure for such a severe case of snow-day-itus.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I will excuse the terrible joke if you carry me up the stairs.” She glances down to the ground. “I’m not sure my toes have survived the last round of snow angels.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Deal.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But instead of waiting, the boy curls an arm around her and lifts in one swift move, throwing her onto his back. She doesn’t even blink, unsurprised by the strange behaviour, just wraps her limbs around him and presses her cold nose into his neck, making him yelp in surprise. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The girl simply laughs, fumbling a kiss against the spot. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Come on, let’s go home.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They take three steps before the boy turns back, looking at their creation in concern. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What about the scarf?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think Frosty needs it more than you.” She gives a special grin that warms him more than their gift. “We’ll get it tomorrow.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You better look after it!” the boy says to him. “There’ll be hell to pay if her grandma thinks I lost it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh please, she’s probably already knitting you another one. She knows what you’re like.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey!” he protests, turning their backs so they can walk off into the setting sun, leaving him all alone. “I only lost four backpacks this year.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That your Aunt May knows about.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Remind me why I keep you around when you’re so mean to me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You love me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh yeah. You’re right. I really do.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The snowman sits there for a long time, waiting for the couple to visit him once more. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Every day they walk by, hand in hand, talking and laughing and blind to the rest of the world. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Even when all that remains is a puddle, some stones and a scarf, he waits. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And one bright morning they come, thick coats traded in for warm jackets and chunky boots, and the boy points to him with a sad sigh.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll miss that little guy,” he says. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The girl tugs him by the hand until they stand above him, and she bends down to pick up his scarf and place it carefully into the boy's backpack. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“For next year,” she says softly, and then he’s rising, cradled in her palm, the last of his pieces saved by love.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He understands now. This is what it feels like to be loved, even if it’s just for a few days.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But this is not the end. He will get to return to see them again. <br/></span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Love has taught him this.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She opens the bag and slips him inside. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The last thing he sees is her smile. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>If you think I’m not writing a part 2 to this already, THINK AGAIN. </p>
<p>@mjonesing on Tumblr as always!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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